Nekroí
by Kcx
Summary: Traveling into Dwarven ruins was a common thing for the Dark Elf named Rabdom, however he didn't expect going on a journey like this! Ghosts, old Dwemer ruins, and wild explorations most defiantly lie ahead for this estranged elf and his unlikely companion. Rated M for gore and cursing.
1. Part I

A story I began writing for my friend. I didn't mean to write this much, and I'm still writing some more. Nekroi is Greek for 'Dead Ones." You'll find out why later. Many of these characters or beings aren't mine. Rabdom belongs to me, and Dolniir to my friend. Enjoy!

* * *

Alright, so maybe Dwemer ruins weren't the _best_ place to go treasure hunting. But there was so many shiny things to be found! Who _wouldn't_ want to go exploring in an ancient part of an old Dwemer ruin? Well, maybe if you didn't like semi-sentient metal creatures attacking you for trespassing in their old master's domain. But he was a good sneak for sure! He could easily get past the spiders and the spheres without getting caught, right?

_If_ all the spiders and spheres weren't already dead, of course.

He'd entered expecting to be bombarded by shocks and steam, however was greeted with pieces of the ancient Dwemer machines littered upon the floor. Had someone already came in before him and destroyed the sentries? He really didn't know anyone besides bandits who willingly came in here and disposed of those things, and even then they cleaned up fairly quickly. So maybe someone else was wandering around down here? There was really only one way to find out.

Bow and an arrow in hand, the Dunmer traversed quietly through the tattered and torn ruins. Few spiders had managed to escape whoever had destroyed their companions, and for the most part did not notice the sneaking elf. They weren't really all that smart, were they? He came upon several destroyed Dwarven Spheres – which were usually more aggressive than the spiders – however when he searched them, he was unable to find any of the oils or soul gems that were usually stored inside. So the person that was here was smart enough to loot everything, then? Not too bad.

The elf continued on his merry way, and at first wondered if he was really going to find anyone in here. Until he heard some kind of humming. Curious, the Dunmer shuffled his way down a hallway, and then through an opened doorway. Peeking in – though almost falling over since his bow didn't help keep him up very well – the Dunmer was quite surprised. A Nordic man, who was taller than he and dressed in Nordic – or was it Dwemer? – armor (he preferred leather himself), stood at a table in the middle of the room. Pieces of Dwemer artifacts were scattered about the table and the room, and a couple of lanterns kept the room alight.

Being that he hadn't had contact with any human life in a while; the Dunmer smiled, and, seething his bow and arrow, proceeded to approach the Nord silently. Maybe he would like to be friends? Oh, maybe the Nord liked killing people like he did! Or maybe –

_Clang_!

The room was a mess, wasn't it? A piece of a Dawrven sphere at his feet slid across the room –more like flew, though he was sure that it was just his imagination talking -, hitting the Nord in the leg. Before it even hit him, of course, the Nord turned – with speed the elf was sure he wasn't supposed to have – with a dagger in his hand. The Dunmer squeaked and fell, landing awkwardly on his large ebony bow. Arrows scattered onto the floor behind him, and he struggled to stand back up.

"What do _you_ want?" the Nord asked in that quite familiar Nordic accent.

Once the elf managed to get into a squatting position, he ignored his fallen arrows and instead smiling widely at the man. The other man's expression changed for only a second, however again thrust his dagger back at the elf again when he regained his composure. The elf didn't really seem to notice the dagger that was being aimed at his throat.

"I'm exploring!" said the Mer in his merry, high pitched tone. "I like looking around in the Dwarven ruins! They're so much fun! _And_ you get to find many nice things!" The smile on the elf's face fell, and with his arms draped over his legs, he cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. "Why? Do you _need_ something?" Leaning his boney and almost frail body at an angle, he looked past the Nord and stared at the table behind him. "Ooo! What're doing? Can I help? I like helping! I'm very good at it, too! My friends say I shouldn't touch explosives, though. Don't know why."

The Nord's expression finally fell and stayed there. He honestly seemed confused, and the elf was about to ask him what was the matter when he returned his dagger to its sheath. The Nord dropped his head for a second, and then looked back up to the elf. Sighing, he nodded.

"If you are truly interested in what I'm doing here," said the Nord, "I'm looking for the reason the Dwemer disappeared long ago." The Nord went to return to the table, but stopped midway. Turning back, he said, "I'm Dolniir Denuros, a scholar from Winterhold. Who are -?"

In less than a few seconds the elf had launched himself to his feet and thrust a hand out to Dolniir. "My name's Rabdom – Rabdom Zedac! But my friends, they call me Rab!"

The Nord seemed to grimace at such an introduction, but met the Dunmer's hand with his own anyway. Was it strange that the Dunmer was smiling so much? It probably was, though he didn't seem to care much.

"As I was saying," Dolniir said a bit slower this time, turning back to the table, "I'm looking for the reason the Dwemer disappeared long ago."

"Didn't they all just go underground and not come back up?" Rabdom asked as he scuttled behind the Nord. Happily did he lean over the Nord's shoulder, making Dolniir a bit uneasy. The Nord didn't try to complain, though.

"So the rumor has it," Dolniir said with a curt nod. Rummaging through the various objects that scattered the table – among them being a Dwarven sphere that had been carefully taken apart and laid on the table, and an inactive Dwarven spider which lay motionless – he picked up one of the various soul gems that lay about. "I'm hoping that by finding a special gem of sorts, I could possibly bring forth – or at least call forth – a Dwemer of the old and gain knowledge from them." Rabdom gave a squeak, making Dolniir jump.

"So you're gonna bring a Dwarf back to life?" asked Rabdom. "And with just a gem, too? That seems awfully hard, don't you think?" Dolniir simply grunted.

"Not if we find the find all of the correct pieces," he said. "But, as of now, that is the troubling part. It seems that I can't get through all of this without being bombarded by ghosts and gadgets, much less find clues as to where this item may be."

"Ooo, I _like_ finding stuff!" Rabdom exclaimed enthusiastically. "Can I help find the thing? Can I? Huh, can I? _Please_?"

Still clutching the soul gem, the Nord raised an eyebrow to the Dunmer and sighed. It was probably bad to trust an elf with such a energy level, but if managed to sneak in the ruins like he had with him earlier…..

"_Fine_," Doniir nodded, "but please make sure that you don't _break_ anything, alright? Everything in here is hundreds, if not thousands, of years old." Still smiling widely, Rabdom gave the Nord a mock salute.

"Sure thing!" said Rabdom. "I'll find what you need in a jiff, no worries!"

Dolniir scoffed at that, seeing as how the elf already seemed….. _Challenged_ as it was. He simply waved it off, though, and went back to studying what he had found while Rab scuttled away to wherever he was planning to go. In all honesty, Dolniir expected to find him dead by morning.

* * *

The silence was beginning to get a bit foreboding. Rabdom rarely ever liked silence; he liked to talk and make friends and learn things. Not that he didn't like sneaking around and killing things like he did, but sometimes that got a little, well, _boring_ after a while. Many were quite confused whenever he mentioned his background to them – and those people were only a select few, of course – and then his problems with not liking his job all the time. Who _wouldn't_ like the ability to kill off people you don't like or deserved to die? Not Rabdom, that was sure.

A gust of steam spouted in front of him, and the elf stopped just short of the heat brushing past his elongated nose. Once it dissipated, the elf moved stealthily forward, bow in hand. The arrows in his quiver jingled lightly. He should have picked up the rest that had fallen before he'd left Dolniir to his research. Ah well, there'd be more time to grab them later. He just hoped that he didn't lose any more while moving around down here; else he'd be in trouble.

Scuttling up ahead made Rabdom slow his pace. Grabbing an arrow from his quiver, he readied it and cautiously advanced to the next hallway. Among the drains and pipes that littered the hall and ceiling, Dwarven Spiders ran to and fro, unaware of them being watched. Drawing the arrow, he aimed and –

_Ping_! One of the spiders atop the higher pipes shuttered and fell to the floor below. If the arrow hadn't killed it, then surely the fall that broke its top surely did. The remaining spiders – which quickly multiplied into four after their comrade fell – scuttled around, though whether they were trying to find a place to hide or trying to find out who did it, Rabdom couldn't tell.

Picking out another arrow, Rabdom again aimed and fired. Another spider shuttered and fell, twitching as it tried to keep itself alive before it finally died out. The final kill must have given him away, for one of the remaining spiders turned towards him and, with some type of screech, scuttled towards him. Its companions turned and followed.

Standing – there was no use in hiding now – Rabdom drew yet another arrow – was it just him, or was his quiver getting even lighter now? - he drew his bow back readily. One of the spiders leapt towards him; an arrow to its underside shattered it. These spiders sure weren't strong, were they? They were sure fast, though! Maybe that was why no one liked them? But the spheres were just as bad! He was lucky he hadn't run into any of _them_ yet.

Drawing another arrow swiftly, he took out the next spider before it could get too close; the top shattering and shorting it to a twitching pile of scrap metal. Rabdom readily reached for another arrow and – Wait, why wasn't he grabbing any arrows? Was he out already? He mentally cursed himself and scattered back as the final spider shot electricity towards him again. It barely missed his right shoulder, though he could still feel the tingling as it jolted past him. Sheathing his bow, he grabbed for his dagger and made a dash for it – barely missing another shot of electricity in the process. Rab was never the one for brute force – he liked his bow and arrows very much – but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Dodging for the wriggling spider, he lurched forward and stepped on one of its spindly legs before it come advance any further. It squealed as the metal broke, attempting to break free, but Rabdom gave it little leverage. In an instant he tore through the metal casing that housed its energy source with his dagger, stabbing it in the metaphorical heart and killing it. Rabdom never really liked these Dwarven spiders, anyway.

Putting his dagger back on his waist, Rabdom went scavenging around the spiders. He managed to find all of his arrows, as well as some soul gems and Dwarven oils he was sure Dolniir would like. Once he was sure that he couldn't find anymore, Rabdom advanced onward. Hopefully, he wouldn't run into any _more_ trouble along the way. But, considering his luck, he wouldn't have the luxury of such things for too long. And his luck, he knew, was sure to end quickly.

Traversing through the narrow halls, it was relatively quiet. Rabdom liked the quiet, but it also tormented him so. Quietness usually meant that something bad was going to happen and soon, and the quietness also left him to his own thoughts, of which were scrambled and tormented him to no end. Besides, the voices inside his head didn't really like him all that well.

His quiet journey came to an end when he came upon a large set of doors. Curious, he got up from his crouched sneaking position and inspected them. They were defiantly crafted by the Dwarves, and had intricate designs on them. Dolniir would surely like to know about this! That wasn't what struck the elf's curiosity, though. Stepping forward cautiously – he saw now pressure plates, but it was better safe than sorry – he reached for the door and pulled. It took a bit of struggling on his behalf, however sometime later; he finally managed to open it up just enough for him to slip through. He was lucky that that door didn't shut behind him; else he might not have ever gotten out.

Rabdom didn't get but a foot into the room when he stopped. His eyes widened and a sound of surprise escaped him. This must have been a storage room of some kind! Items of various shapes and sizes lay here and there. The inventory consisted of mostly metal that could be used for smiting, but the gears and screws and everything else looked so shiny! Without a second thought, Rabdom began his trek around the room, looking at all the random objects and even shoving a few into his satchel if they looked valuable or nice enough. Too bad he didn't having something that could carry more, or he would have surely taken more! He'd been lucky enough to find Dwarven arrows as well; swiftly putting them into his quiver alongside his ebony ones.

He had barely made a round through the room when he realized that there was more in there than just the items that lay scattered about on the ledges and tables along the walls. In the center of the room lay a table with various types of soul gems – including black soul gems, the elf noted – and even some rarer types of metal. Well, they were much shinier then the types of Dwarven metals _he'd_ seen before, so that must have meant that they were rarer, right?

Carefully eyeing the treasure on the table, Rabdom slowly circled the table, grabbing a few pieces of this shiny metal as he – Wait, why was his weight shifting? Looking down, something caught in his throat. He'd stepped on a pressure plate. Behind him – it must have been the end of the room, for he was now facing towards the door where he stood – something began moving. Stepping away from the table and holding a piece of treasure close to his abdomen, the elf slowly turned to whatever beast he surely had to face.

The arc was much like the structure that kept a Dwarven Centurion. It was a little smaller, maybe, but it still looked familiar. The creature it held ripped its final arm free of its hold and rolled out, steam emitting from various joints in its body. It sure _looked_ like a Centurion – at least the top half did. Maybe if it decided to wear a Dwarven helmet of some sort? Where its legs should have been, was instead a sphere, much larger than the Dwarven Spheres that usually claimed them. How strange. He hadn't seen anything like _this_ before!

Rabdom lingered too long; the creature gave something similar to a roar, and with a slash to the air with the blade on its right arm, it charged forward. Rabdom barely had time to move. Almost breaking something, the Dunmer rolled quickly out of the way. The Dwarven mechanism crashed loudly into the table, and as Rabdom noted after almost ramming into the wall, completely shattered it; pieces of it falling onto the floor as the guardian rolled back. The items on the table had been thrown across the room, or else gotten stuck in this creature.

What _was_ it, anyway? It looked like a Dwarven Sphere and Centurion when and made a baby, and someone just slapped a Dwarven helmet on it. Was it a Sphere or a Centurion?... Or maybe a Centurion Sphere? Yeah, that sounded _much_ better! He'd have to write that down so he wouldn't forget it.

Luckily, Rabdom was paying a bit more attention this time. As the metal beast raised its left arm – which technically was an axe – and stormed forward, Rabdom turned and fled, almost flying into the wall before scattering past the Sphere. Behind him, the beast crashed into the wall, though all things considered, it probably didn't faze it much. Drawing his bow and an arrow, Rabdom turned and shot. The arrow landed at the Sphere's midsection right as it turned, though snapped in half when it moved forward. Obviously, this wasn't going to give up so easily. It was also faster than it should have been. If anything, it was only a head smaller than the usual Centurion, though moved just as quickly as a sphere. To be honest, it rather frightened Rab to know that this _thing_ could keep up with him.

Turning, Rabdom was sure for a moment that he had wings as he jumped onto the ledges of the wall and scaled upwards towards the ceiling. Just as he got high enough, the Sphere crashed into the wall with one of its weapons. Turning and pulling out another arrow, he shot at the mechanism's head. It stumbled and shuttered as he tried to raise a weapon, but again, it didn't seem to phase it. Hoping not to die, Rabdom launched himself off of the wall as the beast tried to attack again. He landed on the large dome and with a simple kick off, did a flip and landed on the floor. This thing seemed rather slow at reacting. Maybe that was a good thing?

Scattering back and nearly jumping over the broken table, Rabdom shot at it a third time as he tried to back up. It must have damaged itself, for the hit made it stumble forward before regaining its composure. Maybe he should go get Dolniir? But then he'd lead the thing right to him, and he surely wouldn't like that. Groan, things weren't going his way today, were they?

Almost stumbling over the items scattered amongst the floor, Rabdom made a beeline for the door. It took him only a second to realize he wouldn't want to take this thing out of the _room_, much less anywhere else, before again scaling the wall. This time, he slid onto the arc around the door, causing the Sphere to ram right into the double doors. They audibly cracked, and Rabdom did his best not to fall as the wall shook. With some sort of angry groan, the Sphere raised its axe and smashed it against the wall. Rabdom yelped as it crashed into the arc between his feet. The wall began crumbling as the Sphere pulled down, splitting the wall and breaking the door as it went.

Rabdom was sure he was going to crash to his death, and so swiftly – had his heart always been in his ears? – he launched himself onto the Sphere's head, but this time more unsteadily then the last time. The sphere, in mild anger, raised its sword and attempted to swipe him off. Looking closer and closer to death, Rabdom was merely rolling off of instincts; jumping off of the helm as the sphere closed in. A large gash showed where Rabdom used to be. But, terrifyingly, the creature still moved. Sparks and steam shot out of the wound. He was going to die.

Turning, he was ready to shoot another arrow – Eek! Rabdom never really had good footing, and tripped and slipped over one or two of the various items on the floor. A few went flying – a cup in particular went rocketing towards the Sphere as Rabdom kicked it in order to regain his footing. The Sphere only had time to raise its axe when the cup lodged itself into the sphere's source of mobility. It must have hit something very valuable, for the Sphere shuttered and black smoke slowly seeped out of the seams. Something snapped and cracked, and the as quickly as its gargantuan body would allow – which was very quickly – the whole body fell haphazardly to the floor. Rabdom pulled himself back just enough, expecting to be crushed – when the head landed not a few inches from his feet with a resounding boom.

Rabdom waited. And he waited. And he waited. When he was sure that the thing was no longer moving, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He stood, almost shaking as he put away his bow, and slowly stepped forward to inspect the large creature. Considering that it almost killed him, he thought that it was only right for him to take a few things from it.

The beast lay on its side, steam and smoke still rising from its frame. It was still dead, though, or so it seemed. Trying to find a place where he could break it open and hopefully take some gears from it, he found a most curious thing – at its chest was some cracked glass dome. It was probably no bigger than his head; smaller, in fact. Inside laid some sort of red gem, glowing faintly as gears and cogs lay protectively around it. Curious, Rabdom reached forward and attempted to pry it open.

After several minutes of fumbling and mental cursing to Akatosh, he realized that he wasn't going to get this thing out easy. It was shiny and looked very valuable; surely Dolniir would like to have it! So he couldn't leave it behind. And, he was sure, Dolniir wouldn't be too happy being bothered unless he _knew_ he'd actually found something of value. At least, that's how Fandreigh was. And both seemed pretty smart, too!

Thus began the long process of attempting to find a way to open it. His bow obviously wasn't going to help – it was too frail looking, even for an ebony bow of fire – and it took three arrows to figure out that not all Dwarven items were unbreakable. The few eating utensils he found lying around were also quite breakable. He'd even tried to break the glass with a pickax, only to find the pickax probably wouldn't be good for mining anymore. He wasn't very strong himself – he'd had a few people ask him if he was born sickly, or had come down with something – so, naturally, kicking at it and attempting to pry it open on several occasions also failed to work.

After what felt like hours, Rabdom sighed and plopped down on the creature's chest, feeling exhausted. He was _never_ going to pry this accursed thing open, was he? Perhaps he should have asked Dolniir? But – and he was sure – perhaps Dolniir didn't even know that this _thing_ existed! Else he would have warned poor Rabdom about it, right? That's what nice people did! Rabdom was full and ready to call it quits by now. He wasn't getting anywhere with this, to be honest. But he didn't want to upset Dolniir, either! He didn't like upsetting people.

Carefully, Rabdom slipped off of the Automaton, Rabdom was honestly debating whether or not he should simply tell Dolniir that he couldn't get the shiny stone from its casket when the _thing_ began to shift. Rabdom squeaked and scattered back, fearing that the Automaton wasn't really dead, but simply asleep, and was quite ready to flee if it was. Pausing and turning his head to wait for it to get up, the Centurion Sphere didn't get up. Instead, it shifted a bit before it again stilled. Rabdom stood for the longest time, trying to figure out what he had done, when he realized that he, in fact, had a pretty good idea.


	2. Part II

Rabdom gave another heave, placing a foot on the door frame in order to gain some type of leverage. He gave a push, and pulled again. This time, the Centurion Sphere wouldn't budge; it was stuck in the doorway itself. Curse it all! He'd managed to drag the Automation from its original 'resting' place to the door; however it seemed a bit too big to actually get _through_ the door. His muscles ached, and his breathing was more than labored. He was sure that his lungs were burning right out of his chest.

Letting the Sphere drop – though not far, considering that he couldn't lift it up too much anyhow – the elf stumbled back and leaned forward, resting his hands on his legs as he tried to regain his composure. He was sure to pass out later on when he went to bed. Once he was sure that he wouldn't die from lack of oxygen, he stood and looked over his little task.

The Automation was stuck at some sort of angle in the door, and it didn't look like it was going to budge. He didn't feel like climbing over it to retrieve the items he left behind, either. But he also didn't feel like the thought of leaving them behind. He rather liked his bow, thank you kindly! With an exasperated sigh, Rabdom stepped forward and resumed attempting to pull it out again. Sticking his foot back on the door frame and grabbing at the Sphere's shoulder, he began to pull and tug at the Centurion Sphere in a fruitless attempt to get it out. Maybe he should get some oil to help it slip out? Or maybe -?

Something on the Automation snapped and broke; ever so slowly, the beast lurched forward as Rabdom tugged. The Dunmer couldn't help but give a squeak of victory as it slowly began sliding forward. Maybe he had done better then he thought this time! Now all he needed to do was actually get it down to Dolniir once he got it out of the doorway. But that seemed rather tricky, considering that it took a lot of effort just to get it _to_ the door in the first place.

Rabdom was ready to let go so he could return to the room and retrieve his objects before he could go any further, however once the better part of the Sphere was out of the door, he realized that the Sphere wouldn't stop moving as he wanted it to. It took him a few seconds, however he finally put the pieces together in time: on the way to this room, Rabdom had been going_ up hill_, which meant the way _back_ to Dolniir would make him go downhill. The Automation was too big to make it stop moving, especially when Rabdom wasn't too strong to begin with.

Turning, the elf did the first thing he could think of: he fled. He nearly flew down the slope and turned a corner as the Sphere picked up speed, praying that at the corner, the Sphere would crash and stop. He was not so lucky; the Automation merely crashed into the wall and then kept on going, losing a few pieces along the way. Rabdom could feel his lungs begging to burn again, but he really couldn't stop at this point. Going into a full on sprint, the elf made a beeline for where he had last left Dolniir. This, sadly, was a good half forty or more feet away, and a good part of him said that he was going to die.

His luck wasn't fully horrible, he quickly came to realize. The door was still open, and Dolniir was still there. His back was turned to him, and he had to wonder why he hadn't heard him coming already. Speeding his pace – could he ever go any faster? – he nearly flew into the dimly lit room.

"Hi, Dolniir!" Rabdom squeaked in greeting.

The man barely had time to acknowledge him before he quite literally jumped and flew over the table. Something escaped the Nord's throat – a question or exclamation, maybe? – however was lost in the crash the Sphere made as it wedged its torso in the door. Rabdom turned in time to see Dolniir's face fall, and ever so slowly turn towards the door. Instantly, the items in his hands were dropped and his jaw slacked as he stared at the mess before him.

"By Shor's bones!" the man exclaimed after a moment, looking from the Sphere to Rabdom and then back again. "Rabdom, how did you – When did you – _Why_?" Rabdom merely grinned widely from his perch on an old Dwarven bed.

"I found it!" said the elf. "Or, rather, it found me! And it tried to _kill_ me! But I killed it before it could, no worries! _And_ it had a shiny thing in it! But I couldn't get the shiny thing out, so I brought it to you."

Dolniir stood silent, arms still frozen in place and jaw still slacked, for a good several more minutes. Rabdom was starting to get worried that maybe he'd broken him or something. That wasn't really uncommon with him, he'd learned. He knew how to break people, but he didn't _mean_ to do it, honest! Finally, after some time, Dolniir hesitantly walked over to the Sphere, items forgotten, and reached for the creature's chest where the gem lay. Rabdom was ready to warn him that it was pretty tough to get it out, when –

_Click_!

The little dome easily as the Nord pressed something near it, and the gem plopped out with ease.

"I don't know how you did it," said Dolniir as he turned to face Rab, "but you've found something that I've been looking for, for ages. " Dolniir's expression twisted into that of confusion. "What's with the face?" Rabdom vented through his nose in annoyance.

"Because!" Rabdom whined, though it was surprising that he got anything out with how much pouting he was doing. "I spent over an hour trying to open it, and you did it just by pushing a thing!" Rab squatted and crossed his arms 'angrily.' Dolniir could only shake his head as he approached his table.

"You're lucky you didn't break the damned thing," he said. Pausing, Dolniir rolled the gem around in his hands. Finally, he sighed. "But I guess you did good work," Dolniir said with a nod. "I could really use this. I'm actually rather grateful you found it."

With an almost happy squeak, Rabdom launched himself off of the bed and towards the table. "I found lots of other good things, too!" he said as he began rummaging through his satchel. "Like these Dwarven oils! They kind of taste funny – kind of like green! - and they gave me weird burps. Ooo, and these metals, too! I noticed you were wearing Dwarven armor, and I thought that these looked like they were the same color as them, so I thought that they'd be useful. Oh, and -!"

Dolniir sighed and returned to his work, setting the gem on the table as Rabdom rambled on about what he found and began setting such things on the table. For a race of elves who generally did not like outsiders, this elf talked _way_ too much.

* * *

Attempting to get out of the room was very trying, as Dolniir seemed hesitant to pull apart the Centurion Sphere _just_ so they wouldn't have to climb over the damned thing. On the upside, Rabdom had named the thing correctly; something that seemed to surprise Dolniir to no end. After some much needed – though much unwanted on Dolniir's part – teamwork, the duo managed to move the sphere just enough to slide through. The table Dolniir had used became fairly barren; Dolniir took only what he truly needed, though to Rabdom, that seemed like a lot.

It was obvious that when they exited the room, Dolniir expected them to go their separate ways. Rabdom had to go back and retrieve the items he'd left behind, and Dolniir, as Rabdom recalled, had to set out on the next part of his 'knowledge seeking.' What Dolniir hadn't seemed to expect, however, was for Rabdom to surprise him when he finally managed to exit the Dwarven ruins via the way he had come in; which was, in all entirety, far _away_ from where Rabdom was heading.

He'd just stepped out of the ruins, the late afternoon sun slowly setting on the horizon, when some pebbles tumbled down from above. Dolniir didn't think much of it, and went on his merry way.

He probably should have, considering that, not seconds later, a figure dropped down almost right beside him, almost out of nowhere.

"So I was thinking," came the squeaky voice of Rabdom just as Dolniir startled and went to reach for his dagger, "I like adventures, and I like helping people. And you seem _really_ nice! Can I come with you to do the thing? It sounds fun, and I like adventures. Plus, I'm pretty good with a bow!"

"By the Nine, Rab," Dolniir cursed under his breath as he let his dagger fall back into place. "For one," he continued, speaking louder now, "don't _ever_ scare me like that again. Second, why in Akatosh's name would you want to come along with me? And who _said_ I wished for you to come along?"

Instantly Rabdom's face fell, and Dolniir had to hold back the urge to grimace. For a grown man, the elf could sure make himself look like a sad puppy when he wanted to. Rabdom took a small step back, and bowed his head.

"B-But….. I thought we were friends," Rabdom said very sadly. "Friends help each other, right? You said it yourself th-that this was gonna be hard."

For the longest time, the only sound heard were the songs of the birds as they attempted to find their nests before the sun fell. Neither moved, though Rabdom shifted on his feet every few seconds. It looked as if Rabdom was about to turn and flee of sadness when –

"You're insane, you know that?" Dolniir sighed. He placed a hand on his forehead and bowed his head in frustration. After a moment, he looked up and said, "It'd be easier to drag you along, since you seem so sure of yourself with that bow; less food to buy." Rabdom spun around and seemed about ready to hug him, but Dolniir cut him off. "But -!" Rabdom began pouting at this, "- you're just following me to Winterhold. Got it?" Rabdom pouted, but nodded along. "Good," Dolniir nodded. "Now let-"

"Eeeee, thank you!" In a matter of seconds, the Nord was nearly tackled by the elf and hugged. It was lucky the elf was smaller than he; else he might have fallen over. "This is gonna be _so_ much fun! I know a lot of stories! Oh, can we get sweet rolls? I _love_ sweet rolls! I even know -!"

Dolniir mentally groaned as he began walking, the elf following close behind and talking nonstop. This was going to be a _long_ trip.


	3. Part III

The mountains that kept them slowly flattened out in more inhabitable places. Rabdom seemed excited by the prospect that they were actually going to _see_ people while on their way to the Mage's College. Dolniir could only grimace every time the elf said this or that in his high, squeaky voice. At least it never got too quiet. The Nord was sure that any predators within earshot would turn and flee when they heard Rab. He might have, too, had he not promised to let the elf follow him to Winterhold.

Due to the everlasting winter farther up north, and thus the short days that followed, both were forced to stop for the night early on. Finding a small clearing within the woods off of the road, the two began to set up camp. Dolniir tasked himself with building a fire – he really didn't trust Rabdom with fire – and sent the elf out to find something to eat. Rabdom seemed a little too happy with this task, almost skipping off into the darkness as he pulled his hood over his head.

It'd been at least half an hour and Dolniir had already lit a fire and laid out his bedroll when Rabdom finally returned. Well, if you could call it that. He'd first only heard the crashing of foliage and breaking of sticks, and half rose with his dagger in hand. The crashing continued for well over a few minutes, and it took Dolniir that long to figure out that he heard grunting as well. Dagger still in hand, he picked up a nicely sized stick and stuck it in the flames of the fire. Once it was well lite, the Nord slowly picked his way towards the sound. It wasn't too hard to figure out who was causing all of it.

"By the Nine, Rab!" Dolniir cursed when the light finally shone on the elf. "A whole army would hear you approaching from a mile away!" The elf could only smile sheepishly.

Behind him, Dolniir quickly noted, as he got closer, the Dunmer dragged a large elk – how'd he manage to _drag_ that thing? – by the antlers, and around his belt hung three hares. When Rabdom went hunting, he sure made sure to get enough for everyone, didn't he? Dolniir could only scowl; sheathing his dagger, he grabbed the one of the antlers and attempted to aid the elf in dragging his kill back to 'camp'.

"There's a lot of game here," Rabdom squeaked as they walked. "They sure aren't smart; they don't listen for me like some of the other game I hunt does!"

"Hm, and what would _that_ be?" Dolniir asked, trying not to trip on his own feet [_or_ drop the 'torch']. Might as well try and amuse the elf now so he wouldn't try to overcome him with words later.

"It depends!" Rabdom gave a hard a tug as he could when the elk felt like it was lagging. That caused him to stumble, and Dolniir was almost worried that he was going to fall over if he tried that again. Almost. "Sometimes, when I'm in Whiterun, I get moose, and elk, and deer; even foxes and wolves! I tried to kill a mammoth once, but that didn't blow over so well."

Dolniir snorted at that. Rabdom, who looked sickly and barely able to carry his own armor, taking on a mammoth? He hardly looked like he could take on an elk. But then again, he seemed to have proved him wrong already.

"I sometimes hunt cave bears and saber cats," Rabdom went on, "but that's only if they're a pest or something. Sometimes I hunt for Skeevers, too, and Frostbite Spiders. Draugr are the hardest, though. They're smarter than the animals; I guess because they're dead!" Dolniir almost stumbled at that. It was lucky they were nearing the light of camp.

"You hunt Draugrs for a living?" Dolniir asked.

"Sometimes," Rabdom nodded, "but usually I -"

Instantly Rabdom silenced and stopped in his tracks. Crouching down, the elf turned towards their destination and leaned forward; seeming to listen carefully. It only took a few seconds to realize what Rabdom had been hearing: up ahead, there came a ruckus of noise and movement and overall yelling. Dropping the elk and leaving Rabdom behind, Dolniir rushed back to the camp nearby.

He'd just stumbled in when laughter erupted. "Well, what do we have here?" asked what he assumed to be a Redgaurd, dropping Rabdom's satchel where the elf had left it earlier. "Don't tell me, these are _your_ things?"

Dolniir's eyes darted around, half in worry, to the figures that invaded their camp. There were six in all; two nords – a man and a woman – along with the Redgaurd, as well as two elves and an Orc. The elves were happily looking through the rest of their things, while the others seemed happy to approach the Nord. What a fair fight _this_ was.

"Yes," Dolniir replied, shifting on his feet wearily, "and I'd appreciate if you'd return them where you found them."

"Or else you'll what?" the Redgaurd mocked. "You _do_ realize how many more of us there are then you, right?"

"Yes, but I -" Dolniir stopped mid-sentence as a flash out of corner of his eye caught his attention. One of the elves had managed to find his satchel, crouching down beside it, and upon opening it, pulled out the gem he had worked so hard to find.

"Look what we have here," the elf mused. "_This_ seems valuable, wouldn't you say?"

"I'd suggest you'd put that down," Dolniir warned, anger rising in his voice as he turned towards the elf. "You don't know what power it holds."

Inquisitively looking the gem over, the elf muttered, "Power, eh? You can't seem to get enough of _that_ now a days."

"Put. It. _Down_."

The Redguard cackled at this. "As I've said before, there's six of us and one of you," he said, arms crossed. "What do you plan on doing about it?"

Dolniir's torch barely had time to hit the ground.

In an instant, his battleax was drawn and the fire spit out shards of burning wood; the Redgaurd's head slowly cooking in the fire. Not a split second later, and before another weapon could be drawn, an ebony arrow sprouted out of the Orc's shoulder. The man barely had time to cry out and draw his dagger before another pierced his skull. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Finally the rest of the company seemed to realize what was happening; the elf with the gem stood and stumbled backwards as her companions drew their weapons. Dolniir made a quick glance around – Rabdom was nowhere in sight. Just when he was about to curse the elf for abandoning him, another arrow whizzed into camp; logging itself in a tree, right above the elf women's head as she attempted to flee. This time, it came from a different angle. Well, at least the damned Dunmer could move faster without dragging some accursed beast or machine behind him.

In an instant, the two Nords charged at him. Dolniir easily dodged one attack, and parried the other. The woman stumbled, and with another dodge from the man's weapon, the woman was easily slain. If he chopped off any more heads, he might as well start putting them on stakes. An arrow whizzed past his own head, and it took Dolniir a moment to realize that the second elf had brandished an arrow. The Nordic man opposing him raised his Warhammer with a battle cry – and then stumbled as an arrow suddenly protruded from his side.

The elf with the gem – of whom had hid it somewhere in order to brandish her magic skills – watched wearily from the edge of camp. Dolniir tried his best not to simply rush past the Nord and gut her like a pig. Instead, while his opponent was temporarily fazed, he brought his battleax down on his shoulder. The man fell instantly. Just as the archer went to shoot him, his readied arrow let loose of its own accord and lodged into a tree nearby. Dropping his own bow, the elf fell forward and flat onto his face; three arrows sticking out of his back. Dolniir expected to see Rabdom standing not too far behind the elf, however strangely enough; there was no one to be found. But that was not what fueled his anger.

Turning, Dolniir glared at the mage, who was readying a fireball and looking anxiously from the Nord to the darkness that surrounded them. Fully aware that she probably wasn't going to leave the clearing alive, Dolniir said, "You want to cooperate and hand that gem over now?" The women forced out a laugh.

"Over my dead body!" she said. Dolniir smiled.

"_That_ can be arranged."

On cue, an arrow whizzed into camp, lodging itself into a tree. It wasn't even a few inches from the women's head. The women jumped and faltered; the fireball went cascading into the darkness and dispersed against a tree or a rock. Dolniir could have sworn he saw movement in the few seconds that the light had given them in the forest. The women turned and readied another fireball – and found herself with a dagger in the stomach. The women trembled and fell to her knees as Dolniir pulled the dagger out. An arrow – from behind the women this time – propelled her forward. If the stab to the stomach hadn't killed her, then surely the arrow had.

Dolniir frowned and sheathed his dagger. From where the arrow had almost magically appeared, there came a ruckus of crunching leaves and breaking sticks. Rabdom emerged, bow still in hand and a lopsided grin on his face as he examined the mess around camp. He seemed a little _too_ happy about all the blood and gore.

"Looks like we showed them, huh?" the Dunmer squeaked as he sheathed his bow. Dolniir could only grunt.

Looking back to make sure that his battleax was still where he dropped it – or maybe it was to make sure that there was no other enemies around – Dolniir stepped forward and, squatting down, began rummaging through the fallen elf's belongings. He found his prize quite easily; and, thankfully, it didn't seem tampered with or broken. Pocketing it, Dolniir sighed and looked up. Rabdom had already began retrieving his arrows from those that he had shot, and had even seeming to be looting them for various amounts of gold and gems. He seemed to pick something from the bandit's leader that looked important, however after looking it over, the elf gave a squeak and pocketed it. Must have been a treasure map or something.

"You hunt animals and Drauger, hm?" Dolniir asked as he carefully picked out the arrow protruding from the elves' back. "You killed these bandits as if they were one of your elk." Rabdom smiled sheepishly.

"Well, they're almost the same," Rabdom assured, carefully picking a golden necklace from one of the corpses. "Everything's just placed differently, if you think about it hard enough." Dolniir raised an eyebrow at that. He didn't feel like asking the elf any more questions; he wasn't sure if he even wanted to _know_. So he stood instead.

"We should probably get out of here before the wolves or saber cats show up," Dolniir said as he went to retrieve his ax. "I don't feel like fighting for my life for a second time tonight."

"Aw," whined Rabdom, frame going slack akin to that of a pouting child. "But what about eating dinner? And what about the elk I brought?"

"You can always hunt another," Dolniir assured as he returned his weapon back where it belonged. "Besides, we always have the rabbits."

Rabdom looked down to his belt. Dolniir was actually surprised that he still had them. _And_ that they weren't mangled from all the movement he'd been doing. Finally, Rabdom sighed.

"Okay, I guess," he mumbled, bowing his head and shuffling to the Nord. Dolniir could only sigh and shake his head.

After handing the elf his arrow, the two worked quickly to retrieve anything they had yet to pick up and put out the fire. It was rather dark now, clouds passing over the moon in abundance and obscuring their view from it. This didn't seem to affect Rabdom as much as it did Dolniir. The Nord kept tripping on things on their way back to the main road, and a few times Rabdom easily pointed out things in front of him that would easily cause him to fall.

The road was much easier to walk on once they actually got to it. Rabdom was happily humming some sort of tune, one that Dolniir didn't recognize. He let him be; better to let him do _that_ then pestering him with his own mumblings. He had more important things to think about, anyways.

* * *

The sun was slowly coming over the horizon when Dolniir finally decided that that they should rest. Snow slowly fell from white, puffy clouds overhead. The air was clean but cold and it stung at both of the men's faces. The ground was frozen from the cold, and it wouldn't have been surprising if snow blanketed the ground by that evening.

Rabdom _actually_ seemed quite tired from their trek, and for that, Dolniir was thankful. Dolniir again build a fire while Rabdom carefully skinned the rabbits. The Nord was surprised that he didn't accidently cut himself. They ate in mild silence, Rabdom only taking one rabbit for himself. Again, this seemed to surprise the Nord. The Dunmer was so thin and frail looking, that often it looked like he would simply fall over if a small gust of wind trickled past him. There seemed nothing visibly wrong with him – aside from the scars on the right side of his face – and he didn't show any signs of being sick, nor did he show signs of being a vampire.

"Are you alright?"

The squeak made Dolniir jump. Looking up from his 'meal', Dolniir found Rabdom now squatting on the log he'd once been sitting on. His head was cocked like a confused puppy, and he actually seemed worried. Dolniir frowned.

"Yes, I was just thinking," Dolniir replied after another moment of silence.

"About what?" Dolniir almost groaned at that question.

"About stopping by Windhelm on our way to Winterhold," Dolniir replied. Alright, so that was only half truth. "I've some business there, and we're probably only a few miles away. But," Dolniir made a face, "I suppose an elf like you wouldn't take to going there too well, hm?"

"I actually kind of like it there!" Rabdom squeaked happily. "I have a friend there, too! He's really nice."

"_You_ have friends _in Windhelm_?" Now this made Dolniir curious. Rabdom nodded happily.

"Yeah, and I'm sure you'll really like him, too!"

Rabdom seemed over joyed at the thought of Dolniir meeting one of his _friends_. Dolniir physically winced; what a lovely trip _this_ is turning out to be.


	4. Part IV

Just an quick tid bit, this story takes place a couple years after the main questline, though there are some other quest lines - such as the Civil War quest line - which haven't been 'completed.' This is why Rabdom mentions the opposing sides as if they were still at war.

* * *

"Wow, look at this view! I can see the docks from here!"

Rabdom was half leaning over the bridge going into Windhelm; _how_ he could see past the walls of the city, Dolniir didn't know how. He was sure he didn't _want_ to know. Rabdom happily hoisted himself onto the wall just as the Nord went to scorn him, and began walking on it with his arms stretched out on either side of him. A few passing guards paused and watched the elf curiously; surely they were making faces at the elf from under their masks. At the gate, one of the guards seemed hesitant to let the duo in – Rabdom jumping off of the wall made it look like he had appeared out of nowhere – however decided better of it.

As Dolniir passed, the other guard muttered, "Keep an eye on that elf, hm?" Dolniir nodded, though not fully paying attention to the man. Rabdom seemed unaware that anything was actually said.

The inside of Windhelm was as it had always been – dark and dreary looking. At least, that was how Rabdom seemed to be taking it. Once they entered, the Dark Elf made a sound and scuttled closer to the Nord, as if looking for protection. Dolniir again tried to ignore him. At least he was smart enough to not go wandering off.

Fires lit alongside the early afternoon sky, which was quite redundant. Beggars and rich folk alike wandered the streets almost aimlessly. One beggar in particular was brave enough to approach them. Dolniir was about ready to shoo the woman off when Rabdom, speaking quickly and in an almost low voice, reached into his satchel and pulled out a couple items. Dropping them into the woman's hand, Rabdom nodded, smiling ear to ear. The woman seemed astonished, continually thanking the elf as they walked away.

"Did you _really _have to give her those gems?" Dolniir asked when they were out of earshot. "You could have probably sold them and bought yourself a good two dozen arrows." Rabdom shrugged.

"I can always get more if I really want to," he assured. Those words left Dolniir a bit uneasy, but he let them pass.

The Palace of the Kings seemed quite daunting for first time visitors. Rabdom had actually stopped in his tracks when they first began to approach it, and gave a questioning sound. Probably gawking at it, no less. Dolniir simply hurried him on, and after a moment the Elf followed. Three guards were standing near the door; two that were – assumingly – on duty and one standing at the fire near the entrance. The third looked up as they approached, helmet under his arm, and instantly gave a twisted expression. Whether it was of confusion or disgust, Dolniir couldn't tell.

"Good day," Dolniir greeted as he passed. The man gave a nod in return, though he seemed to be watching Rabdom carefully.

"Hi!" Rabdom squeaked, waving enthusiastically. Instantly the guards jumped.

The one by the fire instantly looked startled at the sound of Rabdom's voice. Dolniir couldn't blame him. Once inside, Dolniir stopped Rabdom before they could go any further. Rabdom squeaked.

"Listen carefully," Dolniir said under his breath, leaning over so the elf could better hear him. "We're meeting with Ulfric, and I want you to stay quiet, alright? Don't touch anything, don't look at anyone, and _especially_ don't go wandering off. You hear me?"

"But -!" Rabdom started. Dolniir instantly glared. It took a long moment of Rabdom pouting before the elf finally nodded. "Okay," he said sadly, and bowed his head. With a sigh, Dolniir started forward. Rab followed rather closely behind.

A few various people were sitting at the long table in the middle of the room. A few had looked up when they had entered, and one of them – a Nordic looking man – kept his eyes trained on the two as they passed. Rabdom instantly seemed uneasy, trying to inconspicuously get on the other side of Dolniir and as far away from the man as possible. Dolniir hoped that the man was smart enough not to try anything. He didn't feel like getting into trouble yet.

Whether it be luck or coincidence, Ulfric sat on his high throne, relaxed as he spoke to his advisor – that's who Rabdom assumed it was – in a hushed tone. The advisor, who looked to be speaking urgently about something, looked up instinctively as the duo approached. He said something quickly to Ulfric and instantly straightened from his leaned over position, looking the two over with some sort of distain. Ulfric turned his head as well, lifting it from the resting position on his hand. He looked to Dolniir and then to Rabdom – a flash of confusion danced across his face at the sight of the elf, however after a moment, a slight smirk spread across his face.

"Jarl Ulrfic," Dolniir greeted, and gave a slight bow to the Stormcloak leader.

Rabdom, who stood cautiously behind Dolniir and looking as if Ulfric would jump up and strike him at any moment, attempted to mimic the Nord. The best Ulfric received was some kind of awkward head bow. The Jarl's advisor didn't seem too amused.

"To who and what do I owe this visit?" Ulfric asked. The way he spoke and sat made Rabdom believe that he was quite bored.

He couldn't blame him; he would _hate_ to be cooped up all day in a gloomy palace like this, making war plans and trying to make the country better. Or, you know, overtake the country and make yourself High King. It was much more fun to be neutral; that way he could off either side without much worry. Well, except for his friend Del; he was a legate for the Imperials, and he was sure there were plenty of people who liked to see him dead. But he wouldn't do that to one of his friends. That would be a _terrible_ thing to do! He was sure that the Argonian would come back to haunt him if he did something like that to him anyhow.

"I am Dolniir Denuros, and I bring news from the Mage's College," Dolniir replied. "Findings from a few of the old structures that still lie around Skyrim that the few of the other mages thought you should see."

Instantly, the man reached into his own satchel and pulled out a leather book. It looked quite old, Rabdom noted, and he was half tempted to snag it from the Jarl when no one was looking. But that would probably upset Dolniir, and he didn't want to see Dolniir upset.

Dolniir seemed quite ready to walk the journal to the Jarl, just as the Jarl's advisor seemed ready to meet the man half way, when Ulfric stood, without question, and met the Nord himself. Rabdom lowered his head ever so slightly and seemed to shy away as the Stormcloak leader approached. Something flashed in Dolniir's eyes as he glanced back to him.

"Interesting," Ulfric mumbled as he opened the journal and began to read. Rabdom shifted from one foot to the other, trying his best not to think of ways that he could sneak into the palace later and steal that book back, even for a little while.

"I haven't been able to look through it all myself," Dolniir said, "but I've found some pretty interesting things in there. You might think about sending some of your men to these locations to scrounge around." Ulfric hummed at the idea.

Finally, after a long bout of reading, the Nord close the book and said, "I haven't the time to read it all at the moment, but it seems highly intriguing." There was a pause, and instantly his eyes fell onto Rabdom, who had stood motionless all the while. "Might I ask why you brought this Dunmer into my hall?" A flash of some almost unreadable emotion – fear, perhaps? – went through Dolniir's eyes. If there was anything else in there, then he was surely good at showing it.

"A companion of mine," Dolniir explained. "He's been traveling with me to Winterhold, and I found it unfit to leave him unattended outside." Rabdom almost felt offended. Ulfric raised an eyebrow in question, however didn't voice his opinion.

Instead, he asked, "Haven't I seen you before?" It took a moment for Rabdom to realize that he was talking to _him_.

"I don't think so," squeaked the Dunmer. It was lying if it was only _half_ the truth, right?

The Jarl's advisor seemed startled; the man jumping slightly as the elf spoke. Someone behind him choked on their drink. Ulfric, however, seemed quite unfazed. He simply looked the elf over, expression showing that he was fully doubting what the elf was telling him. It took him a moment to nod and seem at least a little sated with that answer.

"Well," said the Jarl as he returned his gaze to Dolniir, "I thank you for your assistance. I'll make sure to send word to the College if I find any more interesting news." Dolniir seemed pleased at that prospect.

Rabdom was getting jumpy. He could feel eyes boring angrily into his back. Although he enjoyed Windhelm – the stories of murder and children going insane intrigued him – there were sure a lot of people who wanted him dead here. They barely even knew him, for Sheogorath's sake! Not to mention, he felt bad for the other Dark Elves that lived here. They were treated so poorly. Maybe that was why he tended to keep from here unless nessicary?

Seeming to read off of his anxiety, Dolniir said, "I would enjoy staying longer, but my… companion and I must be off. It is a long journey from here to Winterhold, not to mention a cold one." Ulfric gave a short laugh and a nod.

"I wish you save travels then, brother," said Ulfric as he headed back to his throne.

Dolniir nodded and turned, and Rabdom had half a mind to dart out before him. The man who had been staring at him earlier made him think otherwise.

* * *

"Do we _really_ have to leave now?" Rabdom whined once they were out of the large double doors. There was a definite nip in the air now. Strange, and the sun was just getting higher, too.

Dolniir gave Rabdom an amused look. "We've barely gotten an ounce of sleep, Rab," said the man. "I was thinking we'd stay at the inn 'til morning. Maybe have a few drinks?"

"Ooo, ooo, can I go looking around?" Rabdom asked excitedly. "I have a friend I want to say hello to, and I need more arrows, too!" Dolniir sighed.

"I suppose we _do_ need supplies," Dolniir muttered to himself. After a long bout of thinking, the man said, "Fine. But don't go getting yourself into any trouble."

"Oh, I won't!" Rabdom assured.

Without so much as a goodbye, Rabdom dashed from their original path and towards the lower parts of Valunstrad. Dolniir hummed to himself; now what could the elf be up to going _there_?


	5. Part V

It was well after dusk when Rabdom had finally met Dolniir at the inn. Dolniir was actually quite grateful that the elf knew where to go; he had only seen him once since they had parted ways, and that was at the market where he had been buying supplies. The elf barely managed a quick hello to the Nord before scuttling off with an armful of arrows. Dolniir hadn't been sure if the elf heard him shout where to meet him or not, he'd been off in such a rush.

His appearance, nonetheless, had been sudden. Dolniir had been sitting in the upstairs of the inn, reading contently and drinking mead, when the table in front of him shook with a startling force. Dolniir jumped, and was about ready to stab at the fool who had done that, when he realized that it was Rabdom. The foolish elf had happily thrown his bow on the table in front of Dolniir, a plate of food and a cup of some sort of liquid following it.

"Hi, Dolniir!" Rabdom greeted happily, plopping down in a chair next to the Nord and pulling his legs in with him. Dolniir gave a ragged sigh.

"You really need to learn some manners, you stupid elf," Dolniir muttered as he went back to his reading. He seemed to have missed Rabdom pouting intensely.

"Would you rather me sneak up on you and scare you?" Rabdom asked. Dolniir raised an eyebrow at that.

"Not that you could," Dolniir sighed, "but, yes, I would rather you not do _that_." Rabdom smiled widely and reached for his food. For such a small looking man, Rabdom nearly gulfed down the meal as if it had been his first all day. "So I take it your little rendezvous with this mysterious friend of yours was entertaining?" asked Dolniir after a long bout of silence. He didn't even try to look up from the book he was reading.

Rabdom, not seeming to even care that he wasn't paying much attention, nodded enthusiastically. "We gotta look around the city some," Rabdom replied with his mouth half full. "I even told him about the adventure I was going on with you! He really seemed to want to meet you, but I said you probably wouldn't want to wait around and do that; you seem really into wanting to get to the college quickly!" Dolniir couldn't deny _that_.

"Perhaps another time," Dolniir mumbled. "Seems like a charming lad, though, if he can deal with hanging around with you all day." Was it sad that Dolniir didn't seem to have to worry about offending this elf? Dolniir almost did.

Rabdom happily nodded, and took another bite of his cooked venison. "We had lots of fun! Though he seemed sad that I had to leave in the morning. I told him we could probably come back through here when we were coming back down from Winterhold!"

At this, Dolniir finally had to look up. Did the poor fool already forget, or was he simply in denial? He seemed a little clingy, in Dolniir's opinion. Clingy and stupid. But, at least he had _some_ common sense. He hadn't gotten himself gutted yet, which was a plus.

Dolniir went back to reading, only half listening as Rabdom went on and on about his time with this mysterious friend of his. Neither had seemed to notice – or care – that a few of the other patrons were watching them – or, rather, watching Rabdom – with minor annoyance and agitation. There wasn't much to worry about; most would be passed out drunk by nightfall.

* * *

Rabdom was the first to awake. He was really used to this; he often times slept outside during his travels, mostly because he didn't like feeling trapped at an inn [or, in some cases, he wasn't even moderately close to one]. As such, he became accustomed to waking with the sun, or even before that on the rare occasions. Stretching much like a cat, Rabdom carefully rolled out of bed – pausing when his feet landed to make sure Dolniir was still asleep.

Initially, Dolniir had assumed that the two would sleep in separate rooms. Rabdom, as Dolniir had quickly learned, didn't like sleeping in strange places alone if he had the choice. So after much whining and pleading, the Nord paid for one room – on the condition that one of them would sleep on the floor. Rabdom happily obliged, and even offered to sleep on the floor himself. That didn't last long, though. As soon as Rabdom was sure Dolniir was asleep – he could tell by the man's heavy snoring – Rabdom sneakily crawled into bed [which had been big enough for two], lying with his head at the foot as to not make Dolniir any _madder_ if he awoke. He hadn't, of course.

After a long pause, Rabdom was assured that the man was asleep and quickly went about gathering his things. He had left his bow, quiver, and satchel next to the makeshift bed he had originally occupied, and quickly went about sorting them to make sure everything was there. After changing the night clothes he had put on before for his leather armor, boots and bracers, he added his weaponry and items. Minus his dagger, of course; he had kept that on him all night just in case. Once he was assured that everything was on him – he had a bad tendency to accidently leave things behind if he wasn't careful – he stood and stretched. A high pitched yawn escaped his lips.

"Awake already?" Rabdom jumped and turned. Dolniir had already woken up, and, rubbing his eyes, was slowly sitting up and attempting to get out of bed. "I thought you'd be sleeping in," the Nord went on as his feet touched the floor, "what with how much we've been doing the past couple of days." Rabdom smiled and shrugged sheepishly.

"I can't help it!" he said. "I'm used to it! Besides, it's easier to hunt if you get up the same time as your quarry does. Sometimes, it's even easier to get up before, so you surprise them." Dolniir grunted and stood, still rubbing his eyes as he stumbled over to the desk where his items lay.

"You could have at least given me a few more hours," he mumbled. Almost haphazardly, the Nord began trying to get his stuff together. There wasn't much of a point of going back to sleep now, was there?

With some sort of happiness only he could have, Rabdom set to work as well. After another inventory check, the elf happily made up his 'bed' and set it up where the owners could find it. Dolniir had just made sure that had his own things together when Rabdom had finished making the actual bed. Giving it a test bounce – who _didn't_ like bouncing on a bed? – the elf jumped off the bed merrily and headed towards the door.

"By the way, Rab," Dolniir spoke up as he put his satchel back around his waist, "if you're going to climb into bed like that again, try not to make so much noise."

It took a moment for Rabdom to realize what Dolniir was talking about. The damned elf was _still_ blushing when they had exited the room.

* * *

"It's cold," Rabdom whined. Dolniir grimaced.

Snow crunched endlessly beneath their feet. The White River ran to their right, bubbling and gurgling without a care in the world. The wind howled, and though there was no snow falling, it was freezing, just as Rabdom had pointed out. Dolniir tried not to complain; he had grown up in the north, and his people were much accustomed to the weather. Rabdom, on the other hand, seemed just the opposite. The elf had given no indication as to where he had come from or grown up at, though given the fact that he had his arms wrapped around his frame and was shivering and shaking so much that he was rattling, he must not have been up north. He didn't seem accustomed to the snow, either; he kept his pace behind Dolniir simple and slow, and seemed to be walking in the larger man's footsteps to make it easier for him.

"Welcome to Skyrim," Dolniir snorted, bowing his head as another gust of wind blew at them. He heard a squeak, and, glancing back, saw Rabdom stumble backwards. He regained his balance swiftly, and was quick to try and catch up with the Nord again.

"Are we gonna find shelter soon?" Rabdom asked. "I don't like being in the cold very much."

"I can tell," Dolniir muttered under his breath. "We'll be past the mountains soon. Hopefully, we'll reach the sea before nightfall." Rabdom gave another whine, though didn't attempt to complain anymore.

Due to the mountains that rose up in the southern parts of Winterhold Hold and the constant cold, wind, and snow, Dolniir found it better and more efficient if they traveled along the White River to the ocean, and then walk along the coast to Winterhold. It seemed like a daunting task, but considering that his goal was to stay as far away from trouble as possible, this seemed like the more likely route. Though even _that_ seemed unlikely, considering the elf that he traveled with was just as insane. The poor fool seemed to attract trouble and oddities wherever he went.

"Do you think we can get some sweet rolls when we get there?" Rabdom asked. "I _like_ sweet rolls, but I haven't been able to buy any yet!"

"You've been talking about sweet rolls as if they're Skooma," snorted Dolniir. An unseen patch of ice under the snow almost made him slip.

"Skooma tastes funny!" Rabdom nearly complained. "I don't see why anyone would like it. Besides, sweet rolls are much better for you; they don't make you all drunk and weird!"

Right, so it wasn't drugs that made the Dunmer look sickly and frail. There was another thing to cross off Dolniir's list.

"We'll get some sweet rolls at the next inn," Dolniir promised after a hesitant moment.

Rabdom gave a happy squeal – only for it to turn into a squeak and a sudden – though light – thud. Dolniir stopped and turned – and then tried not to laugh. The poor elf must have slipped and fallen, for he lay nearly face first in the snow. At least he had something to break his fall.

"By the Nine, Rab," Dolniir said with a chuckle as he went to help him up, "you've got to watch your step out here! You could, well, fall." A snort escaped Dolniir before he could even attempt to stop it.

"I'm sorry," Rabdom squeaked, brushing the snow off of himself as he stood. "I _really_ don't like snow. Or ice! I wish it would get warmer."

"You're not from Skyrim, are you?" Dolniir asked. After a quick look over and assurance that Rabdom hadn't miraculously injured himself, the Nord turned and continued walking. "Up here in the north," he continued, "I don't believe it's ever _stopped_ snowing."

"It's kind of like that in Solstheim," Rabdom said. His pace sounded slower than it had been. Dolniir really couldn't blame him. "I've only been there once," Rabdom went on, "but even then, only a _part_ of it's cold! I find that kind of funny." He stumbled once, however quickly managed to catch himself. "Everything gets warmer when you're close to Red Mountain, though! I think that's why it gets so warm." Dolniir hummed.

"I'm assuming you're from somewhere around there, then?" asked Dolniir. Rabdom nodded happily.

"Ald'ruhn!" Rabdom said with a chirp of enthusiasm. "I think that's kind of close to the mountain. I remember when I was younger; we used to get _really _bad earthquakes because of the mountain. My mom, she used to get _really_ worried, because she thought that the mountain would fall right on top of us. But my dad, he always told us that everything was gonna be okay!" Dolniir hummed.

"And your parents are alright with you just walking right in to Skyrim?" the Nord asked.

"Well," Rabdom said, now a little bit more slowly, "considering they're both dead, I don't really think they can have much of a say on it. I'm sometimes good at talking to dead people, but I'm not _that_ good." Oops. Dolniir tried not to flinch.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dolniir finally managed. "Losing a parent can be a very traumatic experience."

"Oh, it's alright!" Rabdom assured happily. "I know they're in a better place. My ma, she was _really_ sick since I could remember. I'm sad that she's gone, but now she's not sick anymore, and that makes me happy again!" There was a pause, and then Rabdom asked, "Do _you _have any family? You sure don't _seem_ like it. You seem like you prefer traveling, like me!"

There was another pause, and Rabdom was sure that, for a moment, he might have offended Dolniir in some way. He didn't like offending people, honest! Rabdom went to speak up, to try and make it all better again, when Dolniir finally decided to speak.

"My parents are dead as well, if that's what you're asking," Dolniir spoke. He almost sounded a bit hurt.

"Well what about marriage?" Rabdom said swiftly. Hopefully, he wouldn't be upsetting Dolniir even _more_. Ahead of him, and before Rabdom could continue, Dolniir gave a short laugh.

"If you're going to ask me something like _that_," he said, "you might as well buy me dinner first."

Rabdom paused in his tracks and thought. It took a long moment, however Rabdom was quickly lost in a fit of giggles and laughter – and a bit of pouting – as he attempted to catch back up with Dolniir.


	6. Part VI

Water lapped quietly on the frozen banks. Horkers called to one another, though for what, Rabdom really couldn't tell. Birds squawked noisily overhead. The Dunmer was sure that if he decided to go for a swim, he would find salmon and other types of fish attempting to find warmer places to swim for the night. But he didn't feel like swimming in freezing cold water and getting something like hypothermia. Dolniir would surely kill him if he did something like _that_.

The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. This bothered him _immensely_. He was used to having the daylight for more than eight or nine hours a day. He was used to a pretty moon at night and the cool warmth the nighttime brought. Up north, it was too cold to even _think_ about going to sleep sometimes. It also felt lonely. Barely any of the wildlife seemed to enjoy it here – if they were even suited to live here – and often seemed their waking hours during the day, rather than travel by night like most prey. A lot of the predators here were also quite frightening. Just about the only thing he'd learned to live with were the Horkers; so long as you didn't bother them, they didn't bother you.

Rabdom watched quietly at the water's edge, arms around himself as he looked out into the distance. Somewhere out there, he often realized when he was forced to come out this far north, was Morrowind. Had he not felt the fear he had, the loneliness and sadness, he might have returned home again. But anytime he thought something even remotely close to leaving Skyrim, something always managed to pull him back, to keep him there.

"Rabdom?"

The elf nearly jumped. Turning and cocking his head, he looked to see Dolniir squatted down by the fire. Meat sizzled on a makeshift cooker overhead. Beside the man, the Horker that they'd managed to catch and kill earlier – Dolniir had done most of the work; Rabdom only distracting the beast till the Nord could come in and off its head – was cut and mostly gutted. Some of the fatty meat sizzled over the fire.

"Are you going to stand there all evening," Dolniir went on, "or are you going to try and eat?"

With a squeak, the elf happily forgot – or at least started to ignore – his brooding for the time being, and instead skipped happily over to the fire. He never liked the cold. He enjoyed the much warmer climates of places Morrowind and Cyrodiil. But, as his mind would have it, there seemed no use in going to those places. He had work that he needed to do in Skyrim; there wasn't much use running away from it, was there?

"It's still cold!" Rabdom protested unhappily, squatting down next to the fire as well. He tried his best to at least warm up his hands, but the wind didn't help him much.

"Perhaps it's because you've been standing alongside the ocean for so long," Dolniir mumbled as he poked at one of the cooking pieces of Horker.

One piece in particular slipped off and fell into the fire, causing the fire to erupt in a fury of sparks, wood, and flames. Dolniir cursed and flinched. As if entranced, Rabdom leaned in towards the fire, arms over his legs. As Dolniir attempted to fix the 'mess' – pushing wood back into the fire without burning himself and making sure nothing had lite – Rabdom swiftly reached into the fire and –

"By the Nine, Rab!" Dolniir cursed as the elf reached in and grabbed onto the piece of meat that had fallen. It quickly slipped out of his hand and landed on one of the rocks that circled the fire. It looked a little burnt. "You'll get yourself hurt doing something like that," Dolniir went on as Rabdom looked over his hand.

"It looks fine to me!" Rabdom squeaked. He wiped his hand on his armor quickly, as to get the grease off of it. Looking over his hand one more time, he thus presented it to Dolniir. "See," he said merrily, "no burns!" Dolniir grabbed one of the elf's hands and, after a thorough look over, sighed and shook his head.

"Just don't do it again," he ordered, and proceeded to put another slab of meat on.

Rabdom gave a squeak – whether it was a happy one or a surprised one was hard to tell – and fell back onto his rear. Tonight was going to be a long and _very_ cold night.

* * *

The mid-day sun was bright and warming. It was a nice change of pace from the day before. Rabdom couldn't see this nice weather lasting long up here, so he decided to make the best of it. Mostly by slipping and sliding around in the partly melted snow, all the while Dolniir scolding him for making stupid descions. But he only fell flat on his face _once_! And maybe his rear, too, but it didn't hurt too badly! Dolniir just seemed to worry too much, was all.

"At least it's not so cold anymore," Rabdom was saying as he happily skipped around in the half melting snow. Dolniir was walking steadily not too far behind; and from the looks of it, it didn't look too pleased. "Maybe it'll get better by nightfall!" Rabdom went on happily.

"I highly doubt it," Dolniir muttered, making his way around plenty of large puddles of mud. "Most of all of this will freeze by then, I'll bet." Rabdom stopped his merriment and turned to pout at the Nord. Dolniir couldn't help but roll his eyes. "We're almost to Winterhold," Dolniir assured. "Once we're done there, you're free to go wherever you wish."

"What about you?" Rabdom asked. He turned as Dolniir caught up to him, and began walking alongside him. "Where will _you_ go when this is all over?" At that, Dolniir shrugged.

"Probably search for more Dwarven ruins," he said, "or do a few errands for the College." Rabdom squeaked.

"_More_ Dwarven ruins?" he asked. "Isn't that kind of dangerous?" Immediately, Dolniir scoffed.

"I think I'm capable of defending myself, Rabdom," said the Nord. He looked to the Dark Elf. "Or have you already forgotten our time with the bandits?"

Rabdom looked down sheepishly. "It's better safe than sorry," he said. Overhead, a bird glided past. Dolniir grumbled.

"Trust me," he replied, "I know how to defend myself. No need to worry."

"But that's what friends are for, right?" asked Rab as he trotted ahead. Turning himself around, Rabdom began walking backwards – something that made Dolniir snort. "They're supposed to worry about each other and help each other, right?" the Dunmer went on saying. "Most people wouldn't have anyone to care about them and make sure they were alright if it weren't for their friends."

"So you're telling me I have no one in this Aedra forsaken world that gives a damn about me?" asked Dolniir. He actually sounded a little offended for a moment.

"Well, _do_ you?"

At that, Dolniir stopped in his tracks. Bowing his head, the Nord began thinking profusely. That's what it looked like to Rabdom, anyhow. Time seemed to move slowly as the two stood in silence. The bird was still circling overhead. It almost seemed to be watching them, or waiting for something. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Dolniir looked up – and, for once, wasn't surprised to see Rabdom standing there in front of him. He actually looked concerned; his expression twisted into one that resembled grief or sorrow.

"Dolniir?" asked the Dark Elf. Dolniir opened his mouth to try and say something, but nothing seemed to want to come out. "I'm sorry," said Rabdom, voice almost going quiet. After another moment of silence, Dolniir sighed and nodded.

"Everything's fine, Rab," Dolniir assured. Walking about the elf, he said, "Let's get going. I hope to reach Winterhold before sundown."

Rabdom paused for only a moment before he followed Dolniir swiftly. Strangely, he was rather quiet. The bird overhead squawked and veered to the left, away from the two travelers and towards the vast wilderness of the north.


	7. Part VII

Winterhold was a cold and lonely place, much like the majority of the northern cities in Skyrim. Nothing seemed to want to live in these parts; only pine trees and a few crops and plants were willing to grow here, and an animal needed a thick fur pelt in order to endure the long nights. The people, as per always, seemed hearty and had the ability to withstand almost any situation. For that, Rabdom happily gave them credit. He also disliked them for their heartiness, given that it made them harder to kill them, but he still gave them credit where it was due.

Many of the houses looked eerie. Plenty were broken and obviously falling apart. Others – mostly the ones outside of town – looked as if they'd been ripped in half. There had been an earthquake here long ago, hadn't there? The Dunmer scrunched his nose up. He would have _hated_ to have been there when that occurred. The better part of the city had been left in ruins. The only thing that hadn't been touched – miraculously – was the College. Many blamed the work of magic. Nobody seemed to like magic these days.

"We'll probably be staying at the inn tonight," said Dolniir, snapping Rabdom out of his trance. "I don't have a bed in the College, and it just seems easier than letting _you_ run amuck by yourself." Rabdom pouted.

"But I said I'd be good!" he said. His voice caught the attention of a few passersby. Dolniir glared.

"Better safe than sorry," muttered the Nord, and proceeded to head towards the college.

Being that it was so big, the college itself was at the far edge of town. It lay over the Sea of Ghosts, sitting on a large spire that didn't look like it should have been able to hold all that weight that the College produced. Rabdom didn't know much about the College, aside from the fact that it was the place where mages visited and stayed. Most of the College was a mystery to even the residence of Skyrim. Personally, Rabdom didn't like magic too much; people got mad when he used it.

After speaking with the Altmer that stood at the long bridge's gate, the duo proceeded to traverse into the College. Once or twice during the short walk, Rabdom stopped and looked over the bridge to the sea below. Many of the spires that originally held up the bridge were now gone. How it actually stayed up for so long, he would never know.

"Be sure to not touch anything," Dolniir ordered as they made their way into the College. "Most of the stuff here is probably older than you are, and _defiantly_ worth more."

Older than him? Hm. So then vampirism _wouldn't_ help in that then? Rabdom merely nodded and followed closely behind. Their venture led them – or rather, Dolniir led Rab – up a staircase to the right of them, and through a set of large double doors. Rabdom found himself again having a bit of trouble. He struggled through before he was finally able to follow Dolniir.

The library was anything but small. For a moment, Rabdom stopped and gawked at all the books around him. This place was so _big_! It was almost like a playground. If you liked reading books and learning stuff all day, that is.

"Come along then, Rab," Dolniir said as he walked ahead of the elf quickly. Rabdom followed in suit. "Remember," the Nord started, "don't touch anything. And whatever you do, don't go wandering off without me. Akatosh knows what _you_ could get in to here while by yourself."

Rabdom pouted, but nodded in agreement. His eyes darted around as he followed Dolniir closely. There were some plants overgrowing their pots here and there, and many of the bookshelves reached higher than his head. There were even tables where you could -!

Rabdom let out a large squeal that made Dolniir jump and grab his chest. The Nord went to grab his dagger and to call for Rab, but as he turned, he realized that the elf had run off. Turning back around, he then realized where the elf had so swiftly gone.

Rab had happily darted to the tables in the center of the library, where an Altmer boy – he looked to be no older than eleven or twelve – sat. He'd been reading a book before Rabdom had made that atrocious noise, of which he sat down when he nearly jumped out of his seat. Rabdom skidded to a halt - and into a squatting position, nonetheless – beside the boy, a large grin on his face. It seemed to take the boy a moment; however the boy's look of shock turned into that of excitement and happiness. Book forgotten, the boy nearly launched himself out of his seat and threw his arms around the Dark Elf. Rabdom returned the action.

Carefully, and with mild annoyance, Dolniir slowly approached the two as the boy finally pulled out of the Dunmer's rather tight looking hug. Seeing as how the High Elf could actually _see _him approaching, he turned and cocked his head.

"I take it you know each other?" asked Dolniir.

"Yeah!" Rabdom said, ecstatic, as he stood quickly. "Dolniir, this is Atariil!" Rab gestured to the boy. "Riil, this is Dolniir! He's my new friend." The boy looked questioningly at the Nord. After a moment, his nose wrinkled.

"Oh, not you too!" whined Riil. Dolniir, for one, was taken aback.

"W-What?" the man managed. Atariil sighed and plopped back down in his chair, arms crossed.

"It's a long story," he assured. "Let's just say that I had a very _eccentric_ childhood."

"He's not wrong!" Rabdom chimed in happily. He was too jittery for Dolniir's liking, truth be told. Dolniir frowned.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" he asked. At the question, Riil looked up and nearly seemed to _force_ a smile. It was rather creepy when plastered onto his face like that.

"I've had a weird family," said the child. "Including but not limited to: a lesbian warrior, a giant wrecking ball with limbs, a thief, a bard, an insane assassin -," at that he gave Rab a knowing look, "- a legate, and my favorite, a gay mage." Riil's voice seemed to deadpan on that last one.

In an instant, Rab seemed to lighten up more so then he already was. "Speaking of the gay mage -!"

"He's around the corner looking at books," said Riil. With another squeal, Rabdom turned and darted off in search of said mage.

Dolniir let his mouth hang open, and seemed ready to question the boy as to what the idiot elf was doing – when there came a sudden shout followed by a string of curses and other such words. The Orc sitting at the desk in back stirred from his sleep and seemed to grunt in annoyance, and Riil had to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing.

Another minute went by without even a breath from the person cursing, until finally a man – an Imperial, by the looks of it – came out grumbling and still cursing under his breath. Rabdom was nearly attached to him, words spilling out of his mouth with ease. Something about 'missing him' and 'a special journey' and 'making new friends.' Dolniir tried not to grimace or simply try to shut the elf up himself.

"Look who found us," said Riil happily as the man approached the table. There were a few books under the man's free arm that he was attempting to keep a hold of.

With a sigh, the man managed to wriggle his arm free of the Dark Elf and, with a simple hand gesture, shut the elf right up. Dolniir raised an eyebrow. He would have to ask this man how he managed to do it.

Straightening his shirt and taking a final glance at the now wiggling Dark Elf, the Imperial turned to Dolniir. After a moment, he asked, "I take it you're Dolniir?" The Nord's brow furrowed.

"Yes," Dolniir replied slowly. Did the mage manage to get his name out of Rabdom's constant chattering? That was… Rather impressive.

Sticking out his hand, the Imperial said, "Fandreigh." Adding a glance back to Rabdom, he added, "I apologize for your running in to him. He can be rather…. _Loud_ at times."

"But he's still fun!" Riil chimed in happily, kicking his legs. Fandreigh looked back at the child and almost glared. Riil only smiled back widely.

Trying not to laugh, Dolniir met Fandreigh's hand with his own. "I rather feel sorry for you," said Dolniir as he let his hand drop. "I take it you all are friends?" Fandreigh seemed to glare now.

"The best of friends!" said Rabdom happily before Fandreigh could correct the Nord. "We've known each other for ever and ever!"

"It's only been four years, Rab," Fandreigh replied. "That really isn't a long time."

"Well it feels like it to me," pouted Rab. Saddest thing was that, to Rab, it probably really was.

* * *

To Dolniir, the funniest thing was that, compared to Rab, his friends – or rather family, as Riil had so happily mentioned – were completely normal. There were a few of them he'd had yet to meet, although it was apparent that Atariil and Fandreigh had not ventured here alone from Dawnstar, where they lived. As Dolniir spoke to Fandreigh about the College and Rabdom became entertained with following Riil around the library, Fandreigh became acquainted with a few members of Atariil's little family; Byorn, a man Riil called 'Papa,' – and who was apparently married to Fandreigh, much to Dolniir's surprise and amusement – and a Nordic smith. Atariil's siblings were more interesting, considering one was a Wood Elf and the other a Breton. Both were younger then he and the girl – the elf – seemed wearier of the newcomer than the Breton; the girl quick to dart off and look around the library with Riil and Rab. Dolniir tried not to laugh at the unusual family.

Most of the day was spent talking with this mage and his husband, and trying to explain to them his goal and why exactly it was that he was dragging Rabdom along with him. Fandreigh could only shake his head in what seemed like annoyance – and perhaps mild amusement?

"I'm surprised you haven't tried to kill him yet," Fandreigh mused aloud. Byorn gave him a playful punch to the shoulder.

"Oh, be nice," laughed the smith. "I'm sure he's saved your hide more than once. Not to mention, you've done a few nice things for him, hm?"

"Only because I didn't want to hear him whine about a lost item or a bruise that wouldn't go away," Fandreigh replied sternly.

"I think Uncle Rab is funny," said Celore, the Breton boy, from his spot on Byorn's lap. "He says a lot of things that don't make sense, though. Did you know he talks to dead people? He also kills -!" Byorn put a hand over the boy's mouth before he could say anymore.

"Calm down, child," Byorn laughed heartily. "There are some things you shouldn't go blurting out, else others won't understand you."

The boy merely glared up at the man, but said no more when Byorn removed his hand. Fandreigh sighed and rubbed his face for a moment. He mumbled something under his breath – it sounded like, "Ugh, _children_!" – though no one attempted to question him. It was possibly better that way, anyhow.

* * *

"Aw, do we have to go already?" asked Riil, pouting even more than Rabdom could [Dolniir didn't think that was possible].

"We've been here for almost a week, Riil," Fandreigh replied. "Besides, I'm sure Rabdom will pop by for a visit even _before_ we make it home." Riil stood at large doorway into the college and crossed his arms, pouting. Byorn came shuffling up behind him; the little Wood Elf perched on his shoulders.

"Cheer up, little one," he said assuringly. "I'm sure your father will want to return here within a couple of months." That didn't seem to cheer him up to much, but with a huff of air through his nose, he finally took a step forward.

"Wait, don't forget to say goodbye!" whined Rabdom as he slipped out the large door. Dolniir followed close behind, stopping to keep the door ajar.

Atariil smiled rather widely and turned – only to be nearly tackled by Rabdom with a hug. This didn't seem to bother the boy at all. Rather, he seemed rather ecstatic about it. This group was surely strange, Dolniir noted, if the better part of them could easily – and happily - take Rabdom's quirkiness without much question. Perhaps they had known him long enough to get used to it? That was his only _rational_ solution.

"Remember," said Riil as Rabdom finally let go of him, "don't forget eat when you need to, and try not to get yourself killed. I'm sure Fandreigh won't be too happy if we have to come and help you again. Oh, and don't forget to come by and visit soon, either!"

"I won't," Rabdom replied, giving the boy a mock salute. Altariil could only smile and pull the Dunmer in another embrace. Byorn was there as Rabdom finally stood, and place a calloused hand on the elf's shoulder.

"Don't get too lost, friend," said the smiling Nord. "And remember, our home is always open if need be." There came a scoff from Fandreigh, although the Imperial didn't complain.

"You still owe us a game, Uncle Rab!" said the Bosmer from her place on her 'Papa's' shoulders; her legs thumping against his steel armor. "Besides, you're still more fun to play with!" Rabdom seemed to smile widely at that.

"Oh, for Meridia's sake," grumbled Fandreigh rather angrily. The expression on his face seemed to say otherwise. "Can we just get going?" he asked. "It's starting to get cold."

"But what about goodbye?" asked Rab.

In an instant, the Dunmer had weaved his way around Byorn – the Bosmer giving a high pitched giggle – and dart swiftly to the Imperial. Fandreigh seemed to take a weary step back, however Celore, who was standing patiently at his side, gave an excited sound and held his hands out to the Dunmer. Rabdom happily obliged.

"I'm surprised we got _anywhere_ before," Fandreigh said when Rabdom finally let the boy go. Standing from his previous crouching position, Rabdom turned to the Imperial.

"That's only 'cause you kept us moving, right?" he asked. After a moment, the Imperial nodded.

"Fine, well, just don't go getting yourself killed," Fandreigh said, placing a hand on the Dunmer's shoulder. "I don't feel like listening to the children cry about it when the news arrives."

Rabdom smiled widely, and without question lurched forward and embraced the Imperial in a hug. Fandreigh instantly began angrily cursing at him for doing such a gesture, however didn't try to pry him off. Dolniir found himself unable to stop smiling, even as Rabdom finally pried himself off of the other. Too bad he was busy, else he might have asked them to stay longer. For Rabdom's sake, of course.

Dolniir really didn't like kids.


End file.
